Demons and Fried Chicken
by Godsliltippy
Summary: Gordon and Virgil find themselves in a difficult rescue.


They had trained for this. He knew he could handle it, but his heart still pounded as he watched the delusional man pace over the rubble of the fallen wall. Gordon listened as the man's voice rose into a fierce cry towards the demons in his head. There was a steady stream of crimson flowing around wide eyes, adding to the unnerving scene.

"Hey." The blond's hands were up, his voice gentle. "I'm here to help. It's going to be okay."

Wild eyes flickered in his direction for a moment before the man went back to his pacing. "They'll have it, get under and deal with that! I TOLD YOU!" As he stepped towards the part of the wall that was still intact, his fist shot out, striking the solid brick. He didn't flinch as he went back to pacing, red blossoming across his knuckles.

And with that, Gordon knew he would need some help securing the patient. They were stuck on the third floor of the partially collapsed mental hospital, dangerously close to the unstable area Virgil had warned about.

Lifting his hand to his comm, he kept his eyes on the man. "Virgil? I'm going to need some assistance."

He knew his brother was busy getting the lower sections opened to reach some of the trapped medical staff and patients.

Virgil's voice was strained. "What's your situation?"

"Still up top, uh… Willow unit. I could use some information on a patient." He smiled reassuringly as the man acknowledged his presence before returning to his pacing.

There was a long silence as he waited. "I'm patching through the nurse supervisor for that unit."

"FAB"

"Hello? This is Cheryl Marsh. Have you been able to identify the patient?"

"Negative." He winced as the man shouted out, the comm still active.

"That's Zach Winstead." Gordon could hear the weariness in her voice. "He hasn't been taking his medication and it sounds like this situation isn'tt helping."

"Any tips on calming him down?"

"Food." She clarified. "He likes to talk about food."

"Sweets? Junk food?"

"Try fried chicken." There was a smile behind her response.

"Thanks, I'll let you know if it doesn't work." Gordon cut off the comm at her affirmative. He let out a slow breath to still his nerves as he went to task calming the man down. "Mr. Winstead? My names Gordon."

The distressed man finally stopped, turning his attention to the aquanaut. "You're not supposed to be here." His voice was quiet as he blinked at something in the debris.

"I just finished speaking with nurse Marsh. You know her?" He kept his voice conversational. A nod. "She said you like food? Fried chicken?"

The smile that spread over Winstead's face was genuine as he laughed. "I would eat fried chicken. I make the best fried chicken. You have to use spices." He was focused now, detailing the intricacies of making perfect fried bird. Gordon found himself grinning at the change in the man.

"That sounds really good." He took a few steps forward, minding the rubble as the instructions finished. "How about we head out and see if we can talk to nurse Marsh about it?"

Zach nodded, allowing Gordon to lead him to the safety harness they had set up. The man had gone on and on about other foods he enjoyed and how they never got them while in the hospital. There were some choice words sprinkled in, along with some obvious delusions, but they didn't impede on the evacuation process. Soon, Mr. Winstead was sitting with a group of patients and nursing staff, being checked over and cleaned up.

The rest of the rescue went as smooth as to be expected. The survivors in the building had been freed and sent to their groups for treatment. Gordon didn't envy the nurses having to keep patients' occupied, especially those who figured they were free to go now that the FBI had blewn up the building in order to find them. The local search and rescue had taken to securing those who hadn't made it. There were only six in total; a blessing for a facility that held almost five hundred.

As they finished securing their gear in TB2, Gordon let himself fall into the co-pilot's seat, feeling wiped. It was one thing to save someone during a rescue. It was another thing to convince someone that they needed rescuing.

"Thanks for the help." He gave his brother an appreciative smile as Virgil took his seat.

"This was a rough one." Gordon could see the strain in his brother's face.

"I tell you though, Virge." He smiled as the 'bird started up. "Watching someone go from this wild fear to ecstatically describing the process of making their favorite food… it was like everything he was hearing and seeing just stopped, or maybe just got pushed aside and he was content. I don't know if I've ever witnessed something like that before."

Virgil nodded in understanding. Mental illness was something they had trained for, but rarely faced. Even though it could prove challenging, the rewards of being able to help those that had been handed a tough life were worth it.

"It also… sucks." Gordon let the frustration edge into his voice.

"Yeah… doesn't seem fair."

"No, it doesn't…"

oOoOoOo

I was hesitant to write this one. I work in a psychiatric hospital and get to work with people who have to deal with mental illness every day. Many of them are wonderful people. Mental illness sucks and doesn't discriminate, but I have been able to see some of our patients do a complete 180 in order to live a fairly normal life. I hope this story was ok. I feel like the more people can learn about mental illness, the less people will fear it.

Thanks for reading!


End file.
